I am reading, and re-reading a book titled, Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder, by Nassim Nicholas Taleb.

Taleb writes, in the first line of the prologue, "Wind extinguishes a candle and energizes fire." He advocates that we use randomness, uncertainty and chaos, rather than hide from them. I have been contemplating, of course, what this means in terms of my writing and my art.

This is admittedly a new spin on Nietzsche's idea: “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.” And yes, I realize that this is also the title and the premise of a recent Kelly Clarkson song, so the idea is not a new one. What is new, at least to me, is the way Taleb explains the concept. He says, "Antifragility is beyond resilience or robustness. The resilient resists shock and stays the same; the antifragile gets better."

In a lot of ways this has become a call to action for me. Instead of waiting until my life is predictable and controlled (a farcical idea at best), I am much better off just jumping in and creating, thus embracing my incomplete understanding of things.

Writer's block or the hesitancy to attack a blank canvas must surely come from a sense of fragility, the fear of rejection or failure. This I can easily understand. But I have never considered that resilience is just as devastating to the creative process. There is a certain need to break a system in order to improve it. Perhaps it is necessary to risk my own destruction as a creative in order to move along the evolutionary chain.

And the process of making something is often a solitary one, which can make it even scarier. This is why we have writing groups, artist's co-operatives, etc. The common struggle makes us feel more capable. Yet it one's willingness to venture out alone, with an antifragile frame of mind, the attempt to make a new thing--a NEW THING, that throws us out of stasis!!! It is a risky proposition, one that can set the artist or writer up as a target. I am reminded of Baudelaire's poem "The Albatross" from Fleurs du Mal.

The AlbatrossOften, to amuse themselves, the men of a crew Catch albatrosses, those vast sea birds That indolently follow a ship As it glides over the deep, briny sea.

Scarcely have they placed them on the deck Than these kings of the sky, clumsy, ashamed, Pathetically let their great white wings Drag beside them like oars.

That winged voyager, how weak and gauche he is, So beautiful before, now comic and ugly! One man worries his beak with a stubby clay pipe; Another limps, mimics the cripple who once flew!​The poet resembles this prince of cloud and sky Who frequents the tempest and laughs at the bowman; When exiled on the earth, the butt of hoots and jeers, His giant wings prevent him from walking.

Baudelaire has a way of cutting to the truth of the matter, whether in poetry or prose. I read some of his pronouncements again today while keeping in mind this notion of the antifragile. I will close today with some words by Baudelaire, punctuated by paintings that have drawn my attention this week, along with commentary from the artists and others:

'Inspiration comes of working every day."--Baudelaire

WORK by Ford Madox Brown "It is a queer and fantastic world. Why can't people have what they want? The things were all there to content everybody; yet everybody has got the wrong thing. Perhaps you can make head or tail of it; it is beyond me." (Ford Madox Ford, not Brown)

"The world only goes round by misunderstanding."--Baudelaire

THE STARRY NIGHT by Vincent Van Gogh. "Cut your ear off, and you’re forever branded as a crazy artist who sees color swifts in a starry night because you’re so crazy. Sure, Vincent Van Gogh battled a volatile mental state, but he lived a rich inner life of ravenous intellectualism. He was well-rounded and well-read and wrote extensively about art and his intent." (flavorwire.com)

"The insatiable thirst for everything which lies beyond, and which life reveals, is the most living proof of our immortality."--Baudelaire

AFTER: PUBERTY by Gwenn Seemel "I would argue that all the best art is made by people who understand smallness better than just about anyone else. Art-making is about acknowledging how fleeting life is by making something equally as fleeting to celebrate it. It doesn’t get much more absurd—or delightful!—than that." (Seemel)